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PERSONAL NARRATIVES 



Battles of the Rebellion 

■ No. 0. 


VA TRIP TO RICHMOND 


PRISONER OF WAR. 


EDWARD P. TOBIE. 



PERSONAL NARRATIVES 


OF THE 


Battles of the Rebellion, 


BEING 

PAPERS HEAD BEFORE THE 

KIIODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 

HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 

No C. 


“ Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, 
Et quorum pars magna fui." 


PROVIDENCE: 
SIDNEY S. RIDER. 

1879. 




Copyright by 

SIDNEY S. RIDER. 
1 S79. 


o 




PRINTED BY PROVIDENCE PRESS COMPANY 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


AS 


PRISONER OF 


o 

EDWARD P. TOBIE, 

»> 


AVAR. 


(Late Second Lieutenant First Maine Cavalry.) 



L <SIZ 
.L (°T<* 


Copyright by 
SIDNEY S. RIDER. 
1 879. 


C ( 




A TRIP TO RICHMOND AS PRISONER OF WAIj. 


[Read before the Society November loth, 1876.] 

- « - 

Mr. President, and Comrades: 

I am not going to give yon a tale of horrors this 
evening, as might perhaps be inferred from the title 
of this paper, but a simple, truthful account of the 
scenes and incidents of a trip to Richmond as pris¬ 
oner of war—a trip which, however I may have felt 
about it at the time, and however strange such an 
assertion may seem, I now look back upon as of the 
pleasantest memories of four years service. It may 
be stated here that I was wounded and captured in a 
cavalry charge at Brandy Station, Virginia, on the 
ninth of June, 1863, [being then a corporal in Com¬ 
pany G, First Maine Cavalry,] at a time when the 
prisoners of the two armies were being paroled 



6 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


freely, and a flag-of-truce boat was carrying rebel 
paroled prisoners to City Point and bringing back 
Union paroled prisoners, almost every week, which 
accounts for the short term of my imprisonment. 
A month or so later, at Gettysburg, if memory 
serves me rightly, a hitch occurred in the exchange 
of prisoners, and for months after, the poor boys 
in southern prisons had little hope of escape except 
by death or the end of the war. Neither will I at¬ 
tempt to give you an account of the engagement in 
which I was captured, for none but a master hand 
can draw a faithful picture of a cavalry charge—to 
enjoy the excitement of which is well worth all its 
risks — but simply saying that it was one of the first 
real cavalry contests of the war, and a contest which 
taught the Southern cavaliers to at least respect their 
Northern foes, I will commence my story with the 
moment I found myself wounded and a prisoner, 
near a lively rebel battery on which we had charged. 
(I will say, in passing, that the battle-flag flying over 
that battery bore the legend "Hampton’s Legion.”) 

Some of you can doubtless understand my feel¬ 
ings at the moment I found myself a prisoner, from 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


7 


your own experiences. Never was the transition 
from the wildest excitement and the highest inflation 
of spirits to a feeling of thorough despondency and 
heartsickness more sudden and complete. A thous¬ 
and different kinds of thoughts crowded through my 
mind at once. Visions of Libby Prison and Belle 
Isle, with all their attendant miseries, passed in men¬ 
tal review, together with the sufferings and weary 
waiting, the hoping against hope, of loved ones at 
home as day after day passed with no word from 
their missing soldier boy. But I need not dwell on 
this; too well and too deeply are like experiences 
rooted in many of your memories. Nor had I long 
to dwell upon it at that time. Present and impera¬ 
tive matters, and dusty, war-begrimmed men in grey 
demanded my attention. My revolver was given up 
as a matter of course, as also were belt, sabre and 
ammunition. A moment I was alone, and with hopes 
of escape I put spurs to my horse for a trial, only to 
find it hopeless and to lose by the operation the 
chance I before had of riding instead of walking; 
for a pleasant-looking reb pleasantly informed me 
that he couldn’t trust me on "that yere horse any 


8 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


more.” I was dismounted and ordered to the rear 
of one of the cannon, where I found several of my 
comrades had already been gathered, among whom 
was Sergeant George E. Jumper of my own com¬ 
pany, with the sorriest countenance I have seen be¬ 
fore or since. He had already paid a two months’ 
visit to Libby and Belle Isle, and knew better than 
the rest of us what being a prisoner meant; for, 
though every one of us had learned much of the 
treatment of our boys in rebel prisons, the half never 
has been, never can be told. As I approached him I 
Avas ordered to give up my carbine, which was still 
slung to my shoulder, and which my captor had neg¬ 
lected to take in his hurry or I to notice in the excite¬ 
ment. With the most woe-begone expression imag¬ 
inable, and the most disconsolate manner and tone, 
Jumper turned to me and said, " You might as Avell 
give it up, Tobe; it won’t do you any good now.” 
In spite of the surroundings I could not help laugh¬ 
ing at him. A moment or two later a comrade and 
townsman, George L. Duston by name, arrived there 
with one hand bloody and in the air, and full a 
dozen kinds of expression on his face. He had been 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


9 


wounded in the head and in the leg, and though ter¬ 
ribly worried as to what he should do if the bullet 
had gone into his brain, was somewhat encouraged 
when I told him I was also wounded and he thus 
learned that he had a companion in misery. An 
order to leave the battery put an end to our mutual 
attempts at condolence. An officer put us into "two 
rows,” and we were just about starting when a little, 
insignificant-looking reb rode up, and with pistol at 
my head demanded, "Here, Yank, give me them 
spurs, please !” Such politeness was overpowering, 
and he got the spurs. 

After marching a mile or two in a dozen different 
directions, we reached Brandy Station, on the Orange 
and Alexandria Railroad, which gave the fight its 
name. Here we found a large collection of blue 
jacket prisoners, and the number was increasing. 
Here was a large number of the enemy’s wounded, 
a sight which rather did us good to see. Here were 
guards, equal in number, almost, to the prisoners, 
and here, also, were bummers without number. The 
rebel soldiers, that is, the real fighting men from the 
front, treated us, as a general thing, kindly and with 


10 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


true soldierly courtesy ; they were anxious to " trade 
us out of” any articles of clothing, knives, watches, 
or anything we desired to sell, and quite a traffic 
sprang up there in a moment. But the bummers, 
the coffee-coolers and dog-robbers, the thousand-and- 
one hangers-on around an army, plundered the pris¬ 
oners at every opportunity, from which the better 
men and officers protected us as well as they were 
able. I remember seeing the officer in charge of us 
draw his sabre on one who was taking a hat from 
one of us. I also remember seeing Bill Wyman 
robbed of a watch, which the officer in vain endeav¬ 
ored to recover for him. Bill objected strongly, and 
loudly threatened, " If ever I do get back to my regi¬ 
ment, and if ever I do get hold of a prisoner that 
has a watch, he won’t have it long; I’ll make that 
square.” While waiting here I discovered my old 
grey horse, ridden by a man in grey who had been 
tamed by a Yankee bullet, and having due regard for 
my immediate future welfare, I made bold to ap¬ 
proach him with a request that I might take some 
things from my saddle-bags, which he granted I 
thought with surprising readiness, the explanation of 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


11 


which I imagined I understood when I found the sad¬ 
dle-bags had been perfectly gone through. I won’t 
impeach the character of my newly found friend by 
intimating that that was the reason of his ready ac¬ 
cession to my request, for he allowed me to take 
my haversack, which was attached to the saddle and 
contained a liberal quantity of good old army coffee, 
half of which I transferred to his possession in my 
gratitude, and got most thoroughly thanked in his 
return gratitude. 

We learned that we were to be taken to Culpepper 
Court House, some six miles away. Perhaps half 
an hour’s rest we got when we again started, the 
more severely wounded being given horses to ride 
as far as it was possible to do so. We now marched 
for some time without incident; a comrade, who 
kindly staid by me, and myself gradually falling 
behind the main body of the captive squad, as my 
wound began to grow stiff and walking difficult and 
painful. Of course we kept a body guard with us, 
who proved to be a pair of kind-hearted soldiers, 
though rebels, and who did all in their power to ren¬ 
der the march less irksome. I was in the act of 


12 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


drinking from the canteen hanging at the saddle of 
one of our guardians, when a quick, sharp exclama¬ 
tion at him from his comrade, who was the other side 
of me and a short distance away, caused me to drop 
the canteen in a hurry, supposing my friendly guard 
was to be censured for this kindness. A moment 
later that delusion was dispelled, as number two rode 
back to number one, remarking, in an undertone, 
"Carry your carbine ! here comes General Lee.” In 
an instant our jovial comrades of this, to us, forced 
march, were transformed into stern guards; the 
carbines were brought to a "carry,” their bodies 
were straightened in their saddles and all the sol¬ 
dierly look at their command put on, while poor we 
were forced to assume a position more resembling 
prisoners, though we walked as straight and looked 
as defiantly as possible. The whole affair passed 
quickly and was amusing as showing the similarity 
of soldiers the world over. Of course we were 
eager to behold the rebel chieftain, and we were soon 
gratified. He rode by us but a few feet distant, ac¬ 
companied by two or three of his staff, and we ob¬ 
tained an excellent view of him. My recollection of 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


13 


him is — rather tall, straight, hair and whiskers 
slightly tinged with grey, plainly and neatly dressed 
in the rebel uniform, without epaulets or any show 
or ornament, his insignia of rank visible only on 
close scrutiny, and every motion soldierly. 

In due time we overtook the remainder of the pris¬ 
oners, who were resting just outside of Culpepper. 
But a few moments rest did we get before we were 
again moving, now enlivened and amused by the 
taunts and jeers, the exultations and threats of the 
boys, women, and old men of Culpepper, who had 
come out to escort the Yankee prisoners to their 
town. Not an able-bodied man or a soldier could 
be seen among the insulting crowd. As we turned 
a corner at the edge of the town we saw an old man 
whom but a short time before we had captured while 
on a reconnoissance and on account of his age and 
the apparent improbability of his being of any ser¬ 
vice to the confederacy, "swore him and let him go.” 
As he stood there, happiness shining all over his 
face and his mouth doing lively duty in expressing 
his gratification at the sight of so many captured 
Yankees, we may be pardoned if for a moment we 


14 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


regretted the leniency shown him at the time of his 
capture. 

About dusk we reached the Court House building, 
where the able-bodied prisoners were quartered for 
an hour or two and then started for Richmond, while 
the wounded were taken to a church, and quartered 
for the night, it not being deemed humane to give 
them a night ride in their condition. We found at 
the church still more of our comrades — of the more 
seriously wounded, who had previously arrived in 
ambulances—and two or three able-bodied prisoners 
left there to care for the wounded as they were able. 
We were ordered not to leave the church, and in¬ 
formed that if any of us were found strolling about 
the streets we should be put in the guard house and 
not sent to Richmond with the others in time to take 
the next flag of truce boat for the North, which they 
said would go in a few days. This last consideration 
Avas enough to secure the best behavior on our part, 
though we had not implicit faith in it. 

We were soon left alone for the night, and my old 
friend George Duston and myself curled ourselves 
together on the floor of the gallery and did out best 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


15 


to get a night’s sleep ; but the strange events of the 
day, the change in our circumstances within a few 
hours, and the absence of the comforts of even a sol¬ 
dier’s bed, all conspired against sleep, and morning 
found us but little refreshed. We spent the morning 
in washing, dressing our own and each others’ wounds 
as well as we knew, and in various ways making 
ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would per¬ 
mit. Fortunately most of us had pipes and tobacco, 
and it is doubtful if the most inveterate hater of the 
filthy weed would have denied its beneficial effects 
upon us then, or shook his head at us as we enjoyed 
the real comfort it then afforded us. We now began 
to realize a fact which the excitement of the day be¬ 
fore had driven from our minds, that we had eaten 
nothing for thirty-six hours, and that we had nothing 
to eat. Our haversacks had been attached to the sad¬ 
dles instead of carried on the person, and were lost, 
while my own was in the hands of an unwounded 
comrade, who had kindly volunteered to carry it for 
me after its return to me by the wounded rebel, and 
of whom I had neglected to take it when we were 
separated. We dared not venture far from the 


16 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


church, of course, but near by was a negro hut where 
it was possible we might obtain a mouthful for a con¬ 
sideration. An examination of our finances disclosed 
the fact that both of us had less than two dollars. 
We visited the hut and found there a venerable 
dinah who had developed a remarkable aptitude at 
taking care of herself, as shown by her exorbitant 
rates for hoe-cake. She asserted that she was not 
allowed to accept Uncle Sam’s currency, but an op¬ 
portunity occurring for her to do so unnoticed, she 
demonstrated good financial judgment by receiving 
and concealing a small quantity of it, for which she 
gave us much more hoe-cake than she allowed for 
the same amount of Confederate scrip. This served 
to somewhat relieve the sense of goneness at the 
stomach, and when, about ten o’clock, we were fur¬ 
nished with an ample supply of soda crackers, we 
began to feel more resigned. 

About noon two or three rebel surgeons came to 
attend to the more seriously wounded, apologizing 
for neglecting us so long by saying they had so many 
of their own wounded to attend to that they had not 
been able to reach us sooner, and had but little time 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


17 


now. We were inclined to forgive their previous 
non-attendance, as there was grim satisfaction in 
knowing that some of our bullets had made misery 
as well as theirs. 

We were visited during the day by many citizens 
of Culpepper, male and female, and the oft-repeated 
assertion that southern women were more severe and 
unkind in their treatment of prisoners than the men, 
and either much more so than the soldiers, was con¬ 
firmed. Indeed, the latter almost invariably treated 
us with kindness, and as the true soldier always 
treats prisoners. Stonewall Jackson’s old brigade 
and other troops were encamped in the vicinity, as 
well as a large force of the cavalry we had fought 
the day before, and officers and soldiers from the va¬ 
rious commands were strolling around the village at 
pleasure, large numbers visiting the church to talk 
over affairs with us. Many and various were the 
discussions held in and around that church that day 
on the relative merits of the opposing armies, the 
right and wrong of either *side, and the prospects of 
either’s ultimate success. These were all carried on 
in good nature, and though at times the discussions 


18 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


grew warm, and the bantering over this victory or 
that defeat was somewhat caustic, there was no ill- 
feeling displayed. This took up our attention and 
served to make the time pass much more pleasantly 
than would have been expected among a party of 
wounded prisoners, and if I apply the term "enjoy¬ 
ment” to the day as a whole, all soldiers will, I think, 
agree that the term is not misplaced. 

As a party of us, in blue and grey, stood on the 
church stoop, two rebel cavalry officers rode up has¬ 
tily, and drawing rein, one of them inquired, "Who 
was in command of the Yankee cavalry, yesterday, 
Stoneman?” He was told that Stoneman was away. 
"Well,” he replied, "whoever he was, he outgener- 
alled Stuart, all to hell!” "What’s that you say?” 
quickly spoke up another rebel officer, in a depre¬ 
cating tone, to which he replied, deliberately, as if to 
give it more force, " I say whoever was in command 
of the Yankee cavalry yesterday, he outgeneralled 
Stuart, all to hell; he didn’t whip him, but if he had 
had half the men Stuart had he would have whipped 
him, all to hell,” and he rode away. Here, also, 
was consolation for us. 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


19 


Several rebel soldiers remarked to me, "If you 
and I could have the say in this war, we’d settle it 
soon, I reckon,” to which I readily assented, always 
with a mental reservation, "If you would give up,” 
and I doubt not each inquirer made the same mental 
reservation. A young rebel who had been quietly 
listening to the various discussions, took me a little 
one side and said in a serious manner, " I want to ask 
you a question; don’t you believe that the side that 
is right in this war will win in the end — not the side 
which you think is right, or which I think is right, 
but the side which is right in the sight of God?” 
"Most assuredly I do,” I replied. "So do I,” said 
he, "and that’s about all the consolation I can get out 
of it.” We fraternized, and for an hour I had a 
good square conversation with him on war matters, 
which I have no doubt did us both good. It cer¬ 
tainly confirmed me in the belief that the greater 
part of the rank and file of the Confederate army— 
not the political or military leaders—were honest in 
the faith that they were doing and fighting for the 
right. 

All kinds of rebels are represented in the memo- 


20 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


ries of that day’s experience. There were the con¬ 
scientious rebels, fighting for their country as hon¬ 
estly and as loyally as were we ; there were the ram¬ 
pant, one - Southerner - is - as - good - as- five - Yankees 
rebels, with swagger and bluster; there were the 
tenacious rebels, who would take to the woods and 
the mountains if by any possibility the Southern 
army should be defeated, and there forever defy the 
United States government; there were the confident 
rebels, who could not conceive the possibility of a 
defeat of Confederate aspirations ; there were rebels 
who were rebels just because they were on Southern 
soil when the opportunity to enlist offered, "an’ 
’twas fight, sure, they wanted, with divil a care for 
the side, ony how”; there were rebels from necessi¬ 
ty, and rebels from choice; then there were the old 
men and boys, women, etc.,—non-combatants — 
the meanest kind of rebels, who generally viewed us 
from afar off, which was as agreeable to us as to 
them. 

Among others, was a young, jolly, rollicking Irish¬ 
man, whose rations of whiskey had evidently not 
been short that morning, whose only pride was that 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


21 


he belonged to Stone wall’s old brigade—pride enough 
for him. Seating himself by George and myself, he 
entered into conversation. After listening awhile to 
the exploits of his brigade, George asked him why 
he was fighting for the Southern Confederacy, re¬ 
marking that we had a large number of his country¬ 
men fighting for us. " I know you have,” said he ; 
"the best fighting men of your army are the Irish. 
We’ve met your Irish brigade in battle a good many 
times. You always shove them to the front because 
you want to get them killed off. I’ve been at the 
North, and know how you all hate the Irish. I know 
something about your Know Nothings. I know how 
you have persecuted the Irish all through the North. 
Didn’t you burn their churches at Bath and at Ells¬ 
worth, Maine, and at other places? Didn’t you burn 
their convent at Charlestown, Massachusetts? And 
just because you hate them. Don’t I know some¬ 
thing about how you treat the Irish at the North? 
And don’t you try to get them killed off by sending 
them to the front whenever you can ? I know you 
have a good many Irish in your army, and I can’t 
understand how they will fight for you, when you 


22 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


have always treated them so.” What could we say? 
While we of course did not agree with the alleged 
general Northern hatred of the Irish, we knew very 
well the facts of the destruction of the churches and 
convent stated, as two of them were in our own State, 
though we were surprised at having them thrown 
into our faces way down there under such circum¬ 
stances, so we turned the conversation, well con¬ 
vinced ’twere no use to try to make him grieve for 
his allegiance. 

Along towards night all but a few, who were too 
badly wounded for transportation, were taken to the 
depot and put aboard box cars in a train with the 
rebel wounded, to start for Richmond. And here I 
would do honor to one Southern woman, whose sable 
garments proclaimed what the war had cost her. She 
was at the train, passing cool water to the Southern 
wounded, with words of cheer and encouragement. 
We expected, of course, she would pass us coldly 
by, and would have deemed such action neither 
strange nor unusally unkind. But no ! those of us 
who wished were served alike with her own friends, 
and some of us at least blessed the noble Southern 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


23 


woman whose care for the soldier extended to friend 
and foe alike. We arranged ourselves in the car as 
comfortably as possible, and some time in the night 
arrived at Gordonsville, where we were taken into a 
hospital building by ourselves and given bunks with 
straw beds to sleep on, which we pronounced jolly, 
and soon most of us were sleeping as sweetly as 
though under the best of circumstances, and secured 
a good night’s rest. 

Next morning we were taken to the dining-room 
and given a breakfast of the light diet order. A 
small piece of bread and meat, both sweet and good, 
and a very small cup of cotfee—made of rye we 
judged by the wry faces that followed the first sip— 
constituted the meal, and it was very welcome even 
if there was not very much of it. Every thing about 
the room and the tables was neat and clean, and I 
find in my diary of that day the following : " A bet¬ 

ter breakfast than we got at the Soldiers’ Retreat, 
Washington, on our first arrival there, or than the 
first one I got at Fairfax Seminary Hospital, Alex¬ 
andria, a year before.” 

We spent the day here very much as we did the 


u 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


day before at Culpepper, though we were among a 
different class of men. The hospital was a large one, 
well-filled, and being mostly used as a convalescent 
hospital, there was the usual number of hospital bum¬ 
mers, convalescent shirks, etc. Still there were many 
true men and good soldiers here, who were only 
waiting an opportunity to rejoin their comrades in 
the field. A mere boy, not yet sixteen but a vete¬ 
ran of more than a year in the service, from the front 
the day before, sick, kindly inquired of a party with 
which I was if we had had enough to eat, and as 
kindly emptied his haversack of its hardtack for our 
benefit. It was all he could do, and we thoroughly 
appreciated the action. Trade was the prevailing 
mania, and Yankee example must have exerted a 
powerful influence here since the commencement of 
the war. Watches, knives, pipes, clothing, even — 
anything it was possible for a prisoner to have—the 
inmates of the hospital were anxious to " trade us out 
of,” and prices rilled high. My old, half worn-out 
government hat brought me a five dollar Confederate 
note. Watches were in good demand, but pocket- 
knives were at the highest premium. Indeed, the 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


25 


inquiry for knives was so universal and so frequent 
that our curiosity was much excited as to the cause 
thereof, and George finally inquired why they were 
all so anxious to trade for a knife. "We can’t get 
them here,” was the answer; "they are very scarce 
with us.” "How does that happen?” said George, 
and then, solving the question himself, he continued, 
" I don’t believe you have got ingenuity enough in 
the whole Southern Confederacy to build a jack¬ 
knife.” A muttered half-assent was the only reply. 
One of our number who, on being bantered as a 
Dutchman, said, "If I bees a Dutchman, or if I 
bees a Italian, or vat I bees, it makes no difference— 
I bees a First Maine cavalryman,” who from having 
seen service in Italy, was known throughout the 
regiment as "Garribaldi,” or "Garry” for short, had 
previous to his capture been enamored of the gay 
uniform of Hawkins’ Zouaves, and by some means 
had become possessed of one in full. It now served 
him well, and before the close of the day he had 
been dressed in a complete suit of grey with forty 
dollars Confederate money in his pocket as perqui¬ 
sites, and was again clothed in Union blue, with 
3 


26 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


fifteen dollars more added to his funds—all done by 
swapping with the trader-hating Southerners. 

In the afternoon we were put on board the cars to 
make another attempt to reach Richmond, leaving, 
as at Culpepper, one or two who were unable to pro¬ 
ceed. We were now placed in what had once been 
a passenger car, but for economy of space or some 
other reason the seats had been taken out and nar¬ 
row boards inserted at small intervals, thus allowing 
nearly twice as many passengers to the car and sev¬ 
eral times the discomforts. A well soldier might 
perhaps have accommodated himself to the situation 
and extracted some comfort out of the ride, but 
there was a poor prospect for a party of ^vounded 
ones to do so. However, with sagacity and strategy 
we put ourselves in the most favorable positions — 
on the seats, between them, along the aisles, and 
even on the platforms, sitting, reclining, and at as 
full length as wounds and circumstances would per¬ 
mit. There was plenty of room, but two much fur¬ 
niture. A guard with a musket sat at each door of 
the car, but we had by this time learned that rebel 
guards were soldiers and would treat us like soldiers, 


AS FRISONER OF WAR. 


27 


and we were soon on as good terms with them as 
though they were old comrades. George’s cariosity 
was excited, as it had been many times, at seeing 
Irishmen in rebel uniform, and he went for one of 
the guards with: " What are you fighting on this 

side for? We’ve a good many of your countrymen 
fighting on our side.” "Ah, an’ sure,” was the reply, 
"if I’d been North I’d be fighting for the North, but 
my home was South, and wouldn’t I fight for my 
home, anyhow?” George appeared satisfied. 

Our few hours as fellow-travellers and fellow-suf¬ 
ferers had put the whole party on a social footing, 
and for a party of wounded prisoners it was as jolly 
a car-load, I dare say, as ever passed over the road. 
With joke and song, with story and speech, with 
bantering the guards and chaffing with the people at 
the stations as we halted for a moment, and with 
aiding and sympathizing with each other, the time 
passed quite pleasantly till we got to Louisa Court 
House. Here was fun. The train halted some time, 
and the people were at the station in full strength. 
A month before most of us "went through” that 
place on Stoneman’s famous raid, and the cavalry 


28 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


trimmings wore a familiar look to them. "Was you 
’uns all down on Stoneman’s raid ? ” was poured at us 
freely, to which it was gratification to reply that we 
were. Then did epithets, vulgar and profane, fly at 
us thick and fast, and in this pastime the women 
were more adept than the men. They even spat at 
us, and ^doubtless would have made due progress in 
scratching our eyes out but for our guards, who were 
true blue though clad in grey. They, evidently 
ashamed of such action on the part of those for 
whom they were serving, voluntarily assured us of 
protection, say what we please. A lively cross fire 
was kept up by us, and justice compels me to state 
that the language from the car stood higher in the 
scale of decency than that from the station, while it 
provoked ten times the irritation. We enjoyed it 
much, and were rather sorry than otherwise to see 
the train moving away from a spot affording so pleas¬ 
ing and exciting a variety to the monotony of the 
ride. 

About dark we reached Frederickshall, where the 
train remained till morning. The doors were locked 
to relieve the guards from duty, and we settled down 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


29 


for the night. At first sleep was sought, but we were 
not so sadly in need of that luxury as to enjoy it in 
our cramped positions. Songs, patriotic and other¬ 
wise, were sung and repeated till the guards were 
disgusted—not, apparently, at the sentiments of the 
songs, but at the noise which kept them from sleep. 
Stories of field, camp, and of civil life, jokes, conun¬ 
drums, etc., filled up the time until a late hour, one 
after another dropping off into an uneasy, restless 
sleep, to awake half a dozen times before morning. 

Soon after daylight the chivalry of the vicinity 
began to flock around us, eager to turn an honest 
penny by the Yankee trick of trading. Dubious- 
looking pies, biscuit "three for a dollar,” hoe cake, 
etc., were brought forth to tempt our hungry pal¬ 
ates. Prices ruled decidedly "good for high.” We 
had eaten nothing since the morning before, and now 
reaped the fruits of our trading at Gordonsville. 
Those who had money were generously inclined, and 
we all had at least a bite. This revived our spirits 
somewhat and started general good feeling among 
us. Again the jest and song went round, and again 
we presented the appearance of anything but what a 


30 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


party of wounded prisoners would naturally be sup¬ 
posed to present. 

But it was not all smiles and laughter. Tears and 
groans mingled to a fearful extent. It was a strange 
sight—those forty-three soldiers, all more or less 
wounded, many of them seriously, strewed around 
the car in attempts at comfortable positions, laugh¬ 
ing, joking, singing, and endeavoring to keep jolly 
with a spirit that would honor Mark Tapley, and 
sad, indeed, to hear some poor fellow’s laugh end 
with a groan and see the change of his features as a 
thoughtless change of position in the enjoyment of 
the laugh wrenched the stiffened wound and sent a 
twinge of pain through his whole body, and then 
again to a smile as the pain left and the remembrance 
of the joke or the thought of his own rapid change 
of emotions came over him. All in all, though, the 
proverbial good spirits of the soldier under all cir¬ 
cumstances were fully sustained. 

After waiting there till we began to fear we should 
not get to Richmond in time to be sent North by the 
next flag of truce boat, we started. Were prisoners, 
before or since, during the war, anxious to get to 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


31 


Richmond? At different places along the route we 
had opportunities to purchase provisions of various 
kinds, which, in view of what might be our portion 
in Richmond, we availed ourselves of. Richmond 
papers, also, were procured, in which we found all 
the particulars of the Brandy Station fight, and 
learned the extent of the engagement and that they 
fairly acknowledged a defeat. This was rare satis¬ 
faction. We could well afford to suffer what we had 
suffered, and perhaps what we had in prospect, to 
wring from the Southern press the unwilling admis¬ 
sion that the Yankee cavalry could fight, and to read 
in their papers that Yankee schoolmasters and shoe¬ 
makers, awkwardly astride of horses and holding on 
to the pommels of the saddles, had out-generalled, 
out-ridden and out-fought their own graceful cava¬ 
liers, horsemen from birth, almost; and that their 
own Virginians had allowed the strangers from the 
North to become better acquainted with the country, 
its roads, creeks and rivers, than they were them¬ 
selves, and to surprise and ride down a superior 
force of them at their own homesteads. Their cha¬ 
grin was unbounded, and poor General J. E. B. 


32 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


Stuart had to bear the brunt of their ill-feeling. One 
paper even suggested his removal from command of 
the cavalry for allowing an occurrence so mortifying 
to Southern pride. If ever we had the right to en¬ 
joy reading anything it was that, and we did enjoy it. 
It was just grand. And more as this was among the 
first real cavalry fights of the war on a large scale. 
From that date the Southern cavalry never regained 
or claimed the proud position it had so long been 
supposed to occupy, and our cavalry, a branch of 
the service which previous to that time had been 
simply an object of expense and distrust to the gov¬ 
ernment, of contempt to the South, and even of 
shame to ourselves, under the organization com¬ 
menced by and originating with our own Burnside 
and completed by Joe Hooker, had vindicated its 
right to a position second to no other branch of the 
service and to that of no other country; and that 
position it maintained to the end of the war. 

Before noon we arrived at Kichmond, the goal for 
which we had started when we left our homes, though 
under different auspices than we had hoped. There 
was no public reception awaiting our little band. 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


33 


The depot had a lonesome look, and imparted that 
feeling to us. A few straggling exempts looked at 
us for a moment and turned lazily away, and one or 
two newsboys cried the news at us in sickly tones, 
but were not allowed to sell us papers. A portion 
of our party was put into ambulances, and as we 
followed them quietly and solemnly through the al¬ 
most deserted streets, with a funeral aspect, the lone¬ 
some feeling grew deeper at every step. After a 
not long march we halted before a large building, 
and on looking up observed a sign extending over 
the street, bearing the words, "S. Libby & Son, Ship 
Chandlers and Grocers.” This, then, was "Libby 
Prison,” and we eyed the edifice with a sad, heart¬ 
sinking curiosity, even though we had been told the 
prospect was for only a short stay, for we knew not 
what might happen. The ambulances moved away, 
(for we were given our choice to go into the prison 
or into the hospital, and those not seriously wounded 
chose the prison, fearing if they went to the hospital 
they would not so soon be sent North,) and we were 
marched to the sidewalk near the door of the prison 
office. As we did so I saw looking through the 


34 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


grated windows in the front of the building several 
of my own comrades, captured the same time as my¬ 
self, and in my joy at seeing old friends, even under 
such circumstances, without thinking I stepped from 
the ranks to speak to them, when I was greeted with : 
"Tobie, you better be careful and do about as they 
want you to; they don’t care what they do to a fel¬ 
low here.” This warning was from the mischievous 
monkey of my company, the most reckless dare-devil 
in civil life, whom no military discipline or service 
hardships had ever in the least checked the auda¬ 
city or dampened the spirits of. That three days 
in Libby Prison should so tame him as to cause him 
to give such advice in such a tone, spoke louder than 
words. I stepped back into place quickly, with an 
indescribable feeling of terror, and from that time 
was as obedient as you please. 

We were searched and everything contraband taken 
away from us. Money in small amounts we were 
allowed to keep, but large sums, five dollars and up¬ 
ward, of which there were but few, were taken, (for 
our own benefit, that it might not be stolen, we were 
told,) and a receipt given for it. We learned that 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


35 


the flag of truce boat for our transportation North 
was expected to reach City Point the next day, and 
that it was the intention to send all in the prison to 
City Point in the morning to go by this boat, which 
was wonderfully good news. A roll and partial de¬ 
scriptive list was made out, and we were sworn "to 
flight no more against the Confederate States, and to 
perform no military duty whatever for the United 
States government, until exchanged according to the 
provisions of the cartel,” and were required to sign 
the same parole. 

Having thus been placed beyond the power of do¬ 
ing any more for Uncle Sam until exchanged, the 
officers were taken into separate apartments (to suf¬ 
fer a long and weary imprisonment, it proved — that 
was an occasion where enlisted men fared better than 
officers,) and we were escorted into the upper story 
of Libby’s building and turned in with a half-clothed, 
half-starved crowd, captured at different times, most 
of them being Grant’s men, wounded at Jackson, 
Mississippi, left there when the army went for Vicks¬ 
burg, taken prisoners there and now partially or 
wholly recovered from their wounds. They had 


36 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


been here but a few days, having been a month or 
more travelling over the Confederacy. Their clothes 
had been taken away, and their nakedness was cov¬ 
ered with portions of worn-out and once thrown 
away rebel uniforms. We colonized in a corner of 
the back side of the room, near a window, and were 
soon surrounded by the former residents, eager to 
learn the news. We found Grant’s men good boys— 
true men as they were brave soldiers, and as certain 
that Grant would take Vicksburg within a month as 
we are now certain that he did do it. They gave us 
a cordial welcome to their secluded retreat, and in 
various ways displayed a kindness of heart that could 
not be misunderstood. I was flattered by having 
one of them kindly offer me a couple of blankets to 
lie on if I wished, with the remark, "I wouldn’t 
advise you to use them, they are cursed lousy.” 

Our first impressions of our new quarters were 
anything but favorable, and we most devoutly hoped 
we should leave them the next day. We had hardly 
got settled down when "Garry” proved himself mas¬ 
ter of the situation, whatever might be his national¬ 
ity. He had carried a loaf of bread carelessly under 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


37 


his arm which had escaped confiscation, and now 
proceeded to unpack his "leedle drunk,” as he called 
it. What was our surprise to see him carefully re¬ 
move a slice from one end and take from the loaf 
quite an amount of money, a bunch of matches—an 
article there had been a most rigid search for and 
which none of the rest, to my knowledge, had suc¬ 
ceeded in smuggling—and various other articles of 
value to him and us just then. A smoke was the first 
thought, and thanks to his foresight, many of us had 
and enjoyed one. Our friends from the lower tene¬ 
ment paid us brief visits, one or two at a time as 
they could do so without detection, and we received 
much advice to do just as we were ordered, and were 
told that the day before a man had been Tfired at by 
the chivalrous home guard for striving too hard for a 
breath of fresh air from the window. The comrade 
to whom I had given my haversack on the day of the 
fight appeared, borrowed some matches, went back, 
and in due time came again with a rousing cup of 
coffee made from the contents of the haversack, over 
a fire built from portions of a barrel they had de¬ 
molished on the lower floor, for doing which there 


4 


38 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


was a lively row then going on down stairs, and 
threats of longer confinement for the one that did it 
if discovered. We were advised to put the coffee 
out of the way as soon as possible, for fear of de¬ 
tection, and it just did us good. 

The afternoon passed quietly in talking and sleep¬ 
ing and in trying to extract comfort. I amused my¬ 
self somewhat by studying the dispositions of my 
fellow prisoners, which showed forth as plainly and 
in as great diversity as in camp. There were the 
growler and the happy-go-lucky; the looker on the 
worst and on the best side ; the lazy and the active ; 
the quiet and the restless ; the argumentative and the 
take-it-for-granted ; the cowed down and the free spir¬ 
ited ; the iTopeful and the despondent; the " sorry-he- 
enlisted,” and the proud to be a prisoner, even, for 
country’s sake. All these characteristics were plain¬ 
ly marked, (though all were a degree happier at the 
thought of so soon being released,) and it was easy 
to choose desirable comrades. I could not help no¬ 
ticing one young man from Iowa, who continually 
paced the floor, talking now with this and now with 
that comrade, his head erect and his spirit evidently 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


39 


as undaunted as though he were on his native prai¬ 
ries. It was comforting to watch him and see how 
little his proud spirit could be curbed by prison 
walls. 

We were interrupted, it seemed every five min¬ 
utes, by some one with a little brief Confederate au¬ 
thority, with "Fall in Yanks, in four rows,” when 
we were counted, a due share of growling and swear¬ 
ing done that the count was not twice alike, and 
warned not to "leave this yere floor; for you ’uns 
were paroled on this yere floor, and are counted on 
this yere floor, and will be sent away from this yere 
floor; and if you ’uns aint on this yere floor when 
the rest go, you ’una can’t go.” This was the great¬ 
est bore of the establishment in my experience. Of 
the prison and its appointments I will not stop to 
speak, they have been so often described and are so 
well known to many of you. 

Along towards night the rations of black bean 
soup were brought to us in kettles no decent New 
England farmer would feed his pigs from till they 
had been washed. Here I found the truth of the old 
adage, "Patient waiting no loss”; for not being quite 


40 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


up to the scramble and rush of such occasions in that 
hotel, we new-comers did not get a dip till near the 
bottom of a kettle, and as a consequence secured 
rather more than an equitable proportion of beans, 
which we were well satisfied to do black as the beans 
were, and as we ate them we hugely enjoyed the 
growling of others about so few beans, and the repe¬ 
titions of the old jokes of "diving for a bean,” "Will 
somebody lend me a bean to dip in my broth once 
more,” etc. 

At the last time of counting us for the night we 
were again admonished to remain on "this yere floor,” 
and were also informed that it had been thought that 
some of us might like a photograph of the prison to 
carry with us as a reminder of the happy hours 
passed there, and having a due regard for the wishes 
of the prisoners in all things, the authorities had pro¬ 
cured some, which we could have at the rate of two 
dollars for the small size (two and five-eighths by 
two inches in size), and five dollars for the large 
size. We now thought we could understand why 
small sums of money had been left us when we en¬ 
tered the prison. The remains of my hat supplied 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


41 


me with a copy which I still treasure, and the re¬ 
mains of "Garry’s” uniform brought into the prison 
in his "leedle drunk,” supplied himself and others. 
This looked to us a little like Yankeeism, but of 
course such a thought was gross injustice to the 
high-toned Southerners. 

At dark, or thereabouts, we lay down for sleep. 
With the stone window stool for a pillow I was soon 
as sweetly sleeping as a child, and at two o’clock 
next morning was awakened from as pleasant dreams 
of home as soldier ever enjoyed, to "go North.” At 
first 1 was half inclined to growl at being disturbed, 
even for so desirable a purpose, but I soon got over 
that, and in a few minutes we were in line and slowly 
marching down stairs. At the outside door of the 
prison were barrels of very stale bread in junks, one 
junk of which was given to each of us. We were 
drawn up in the inevitable "four rows” in the street 
in front of the prison, and an hour or more wasted 
in trying to count us, during which the counter dis¬ 
played a large amount of bad temper, and we dis¬ 
played unequalled patience though it began to grow 
thin along towards the last. An end to this finally 


42 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


came and we started for the cars. How long that 
march through the rebel capital in the early morning 
was, I seem to have no recollection, but in the course 
of time we found ourselves closely packed into box 
and cattle cars, where the sick and wounded had 
already been put, and in motion. 

At Petersburg we marched through the city with¬ 
out getting much of an idea of it, though I remem¬ 
ber noticing that there were more signs of life than 
at Richmond. Peddlers of cakes, pies, bread, and 
like temptations were as plenty as in Washington, 
and in equal variety. After getting into prison, 
**Garry” discovered that the pair of pants he got in 
his last trade were badly infected with vermin. This 
was too much for him, and he at once got out of 
them, but with an eye for contingencies he took them 
with him, and seeing a cake shop on the route through 
this city he darted in and quickly came back with 
thirty ginger cakes in place of the pants. The ped¬ 
dlers followed us to the cars and hung around us for 
the hour or more we waited there, while blankets and 
different articles of clothing furnished many a poor 
fellow with a toothsome bit. Confederate soldiers, 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


43 


also, were there in quite a number, and, as ever, 
ready for an argument, and as confident in the right 
of their cause and its ultimate success as could be 
wished. Grant and the prospect of his taking 
Vicksburg were the topics of discussion between 
them and Grant’s men, and right loyally did the lat¬ 
ter affirm that their hero would take it if he had not 
done so already, while their opponents as stoutly 
affirmed that he would not and could not. The prob¬ 
able result of the struggle, the right and wrong of 
either side, the capability of the North to flourish 
without the South, and vice versa , the resources of 
both sections, etc., were treated in a liberal manner, 
not free from brag on either side and perhaps with¬ 
out great disparity in argument, though the fact was 
patent that the Confederates (as well as our own sol¬ 
diers) doing duty in cities and towns were not so 
well posted on the merits of the opposing armies as 
v ^re their brethren at the front. 

Off at last, and all were happy in the thought that 
this was the last ride under rebel guardianship. For 
a time the ride was enlivened with the usual singing, 
joking, etc., but as we drew near the end of the 


44 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


route the party subsided into comparative quiet, 
each one apparently busy with his own thoughts. I 
often thought of this ride a year or more later, while 
riding over this same road, then doing noble and ex¬ 
tensive duty in transporting munitions of war to the 
glorious old Army of the Potomac. All at once, 
and almost before we expected it, we rounded the 
turn at City Point, and came in full view of James 
River. All eyes were eagerly looking for the flag of 
truce boat, and in a moment more it came in sight. 
First we saw the flag of truce, and then, proudly 
floating a welcome to its returning defenders, the 
dear old, grand old, stars and stripes. Then arose 
one long, loud cheer such as is seldom heard, fol¬ 
lowed by a scene that beggars description. The 
sight of that good old flag so unexpectedly, sent a 
thrill through the heart, of every one of us. Men 
whose lips the name of the Deity had not passed for 
years, save in a curse, now devoutly thanked Qad 
for the privilege of looking on "Old GlCry” once 
more. Men Wno had faced death fearlessly, had 
seen ca2Q ra( j es s hot down by their sides with but a 
curs b for the traitorous hand that directed the bullet, 

is 



AS miSONER OF WAR. 


45 


had suffered hardships of ever}" kind without a mur¬ 
mur, and out of whom the pains of gangrened 
wounds and of amputation had wrung hardly a 
groan, now cried like children as they gazed upon 
the old, familiar starry banner. Grant’s men and 
those of the party who had been under rebel juris¬ 
diction for some time, were perfectly frantic with 
joy, while to us who had not been from beneath its 
folds a week, it had new beauty and was the most 
welcome sight we ever saw, before or since. We 
had often read of the protection of the United States 
flag and thought we understood what it meant, but 
now we realized it as never before, and not a man in 
the party but breathed to Heaven a "long may it 
wave” from the inmost recesses of his heart, and 
registered anew the vow to defend it and maintain 
its honor, even with his life. 

As the train stopped, and almost before, those 
who were able tumbled from the cars in joyful haste, 
most of them going for the water like ducks, and 
playing and splashing in it like so many school boys. 
Freedom of action and the luxury of the bath—the 
first good square wash for days and weeks—were 


46 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND 


combined in a most agreeable degree. In the mean¬ 
time the exchange officers of both governments were 
attending to red-tape requirements. These satisfac¬ 
torily settled, the sick and wounded were first taken 
on board the boat, and we followed, passing one at a 
time between two officers, one in blue and one in 
grey, and being counted by both like so many sheep. 
"Ninety-three!” sang out the officer in grey as 
George stepped on the gang-plank ; "ninety-three !” 
responded the officer in blue; "ninety-three, yer 
slob!” responded George, with a defiant look at 
grey-coat as he passed by. "Ninety-four !” as I fol¬ 
lowed, and so on. On the boat the invalids were 
tenderly nursed by the gentle hands of noble women, 
while each of us received liberal slices of soft bread 
and cold boiled ham, and a bountiful cup of coffee 
with milk in it, making for us the very best meal we 
ever tasted. George and myself went upon the sa¬ 
loon deck and took position where we could watch 
proceedings. The remainder came on board slowly, 
now and then a dispute about the count causing a 
halt in the column, and many were the tokens of joy 
as they stepped from captivity to freedom, some of 


AS PRISONER OF WAR. 


47 


which were anything but complimentary in manner 
or words to the rebel officer who was keeping tally, 
and who for the time being represented the whole 
Southern Confederacy. 

While standing there I witnessed an incident very 
common during the civil war. A rebel officer who 
stood on the shore discovered on the boat a soldier 
from his old home in Illinois. He made himself 
known, and many and rapid were his inquiries after 
his old friends, interspersed with now and then a 
"Do they know where I am?” I fancied with a half- 
ashamed look. He expressed his regret at not hav¬ 
ing known that his old townsman was a prisoner, 
saying he could and would have made him more com¬ 
fortable, and closed the scene with : " Well, remem¬ 
ber me to all the folks, please, and if you get taken 
again just inquire for me; I’ll treat you well if you 
fall into my hands, but if I meet you on the field I’ll 
kill you if I can.” 

At last all were counted and all on board, the ne¬ 
cessary papers were passed, the boat slowly moved 
away, and we were on the way to the North and 
freedom, leaving behind us a lonesome-looking squad 


48 


A TRIP TO RICHMOND. 


of occupation-gone rebels, in a dismal-appearing cor¬ 
ner of country, and the white-livered looking Con¬ 
federate flag flying from a little house on the bluff. 
Of the sail down the river it is enough to say that a 
sail down the same river, from the same point, two 
years later, on the way home, with the war ended, 
had not half the whole-souled enjoyment in it. 




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